


Extra - Damien, July

by slashhearts



Category: The Bright Sessions (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Cussing, Drinking, M/M, Monologue, Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Rants, Screenplay/Script Format, Spoilers, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 02:32:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15547647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashhearts/pseuds/slashhearts
Summary: Damien runs into someone. Takes place three months after the series finale, episode 54.





	1. Seen, But Not Found

**Author's Note:**

> Like most everyone else, I was highly emotional and inspired after the end of the original run. Ready to fill the void, I started skimming through some of the transcripts and next thing I knew, I started writing this. 
> 
> Oh, Damien.

**Part A: Seen, But Not Found**

 

[SFX: bustling crowd at a grimy bar, the opening band is playing a mid-tempo, almost upbeat but somber number. the lyrics are indistinct, barely audible amongst the chatter of the patrons: 

 _i am translucent to no one else but you  
__and i get this heavy pain in my chest  
__that stare pierces me, through and through  
__to think we couldn’t be any less]_  

 

Mary: Damien? Is that you?

Damien: Oh, hey, uh…

Mary: Mary, from HR. I’ve heard a lot about you.

Damien: Good things I doubt?

Mary: Let me just say, I wouldn’t have expected you here. Based off the notes in your personnel file at least.

Damien: Personnel file, huh… I see.

Mary: You sound surprised.

Damien: Not to keen on having a file, or paperwork about me.

Mary: Did you want to see it?

Damien: What?

Mary: Your file. You want to see it, don’t you?

Damien: I… How did you—

Mary: (laughs) It’s written all over your face. Never took you for the obvious type… Relax. Everyone wants to know what’s in their file, it’s pretty common. We have an open personnel file policy. I recommend taking advantage of it. Come up to my office sometime and we can go over some notes.

Damien: This isn’t an official request to see me in your office or anything, is it?

Mary: No.

Damien: Then I think I’m all good. I think I have a pretty good idea of what’s in my file, thanks. “Doesn’t play well with others,” “brooding and solitary,” so on and so forth…

Mary: You’d be surprised.

Damien: I doubt it.

Mary: Ah well, I’m afraid I can’t say more. The offer still stands. That being said, why are you here?

Damien: This is literally the closest bar to work. The office is across the street. Shortest path between two points, points being me and alcohol… etc, etc.

Mary: I take it you didn’t know about the show tonight.

Damien: Not until I walked through the door, no.

Mary: So on top of “brooding” and “solitary,” I should add “unaware” to the list…

Damien: Very funny.

Mary: Lighten up, it was a joke. I take it you’re this serious all the time.

Damien: I don’t remember signing up for psychoanalysis. What is this, therapy?

Mary: I kid, I kid. Nothing wrong with therapy either, if you’ve done that or not. (It’s) my job to have an open door. 

Damien: You and your open door policies. Aren’t you afraid of what might walk in?

Mary: I’ve dealt with enough shit in my day—nothing surprises me anymore.

Damien: Hm.

 

[SFX: awkward lull. sips from drinks. the current song ends, followed by applause. the frontman talks about the next song a little as the other band members step off. he starts strumming his guitar and leads off on a quiet riff:

 _been drivin’ round for a long while_  
_tryin’ to find the place we called our own_  
_maybe i jus’ made it up  
_ _cus’ my tank’s runnin’ on empty_

 _maybe it was never our own_  
_i know how selfish i used to be_  
_i’m tryin’ to change for ya, love  
_ _still tryin’ to find our place]_

 

Mary: Are you meeting up with anyone else from the office? 

Damien: Jesus.

Mary: Damien?

Damien: Get this guy a box of tissues already, come on.

Mary: Not much in a somber mood?

Damien: Sad drinking is bad drinking. Don’t care much for it.

Mary: Are you sad?

Damien: I think you should already know if I’m meeting anyone from work here. HR file and everything.

Mary: Again, stop by and we’ll talk about it.

Damien: Yeah.

Mary: I know you don’t have plans to be social, but don’t look now, I think the rest of your department found you.

Damien: Wha—(mutters) fuck.

Mary: I shall take my leave, make the rounds. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.

Damien: Okay.

John: Damieeeeen! Didn’t know you’d make it, bud!

Damien: Didn’t know there was an _it_ to make, Johnny.

John: Ahhh, this guy’s funny! Did you know he’s funny? He’s funny!

Coral: Yes, very funny, Johnny. (under breath) Don’t spill, here hold onto me.

Damien: Man, how many drinks has he had?

Coral: Don’t tell anyone, but he keeps a bottle of scotch in his desk.

Damien: Well, I do enjoy a nice scotch...

Thatcher: It’s one of the worst kept secrets actually. (under breath) John, watch out, stand up.

Damien: Who’dve thought the accounting manager was a sloppy drunk?

Thatcher: It’s like clockwork actually. (beat) Damien.

Damien: Thatcher.

Coral: Ooh, Damien, was that a smile just now?

Damien: Coral, always hallucinating. Can’t say it’s nice to see any of you… Especially in this sorry state.

John: Aww, Damien doesn’t like us. Why don’t you like us, Damien?

Thatcher: Now now, let’s keep it civil.

Coral: No need to be so pouty. Us accountants gotta stick together, y’know?

Damien: All I do is punch numbers into a spreadsheet for you. I think I’m leagues separated away from you _accountants._

John: You’re really good at being mean, you know that?

Damien: Yes, John, I’m well aware, thank you for noticing.

Coral: No matter, we’ll get you to like us eventually. Just wait.

Damien: Oh no, I’m so scared.

John: God, this band isso… depressing… I mean, they just sound so… sad…

Thatcher: Yes, John, very sad. Let’s get some water in you.

 

[SFX: the song draws to a close: 

 _i’ll keep on searchin’  
__if i gotta look for you instead  
__we can make our own place  
__jus’ you n’ me_  

More applause. The frontman thanks the crowd and introduces the main event. The applause turns raucous as the next band takes their places. The frontman counts off and the energy in the room shifts. The beginnings of a mosh pit start in the middle of the floor.

 _i don’t fucking care that you left me behind  
__i found my way and left on my own anyway_  

 _further than you’ll find me_  
_we won’t have to argue about  
_ _who turned their back on who first]_

 

Damien: Oh, thank god.

Coral: Well that’s a nice change of pace.

Thatcher: Questionable selection for the opener though. Would never have expected the two of them together.

Coral: Woah, John, slow down!

John: C’mon, lessgo!! I wanna dance!!

Coral: John, wait, you’re going to get trampled!

Thatcher: Good seeing you, Damien. Catch you later.

Damien: Yeah, later.

[SFX: John breaks away from the group to join the mosh pit, his two companions following and clamoring after him. Damion makes his way to the bar.]

Damien: Two Johnny Walkers, neat. If you will.

Bartender: Sure thing, boss.

[SFX: pouring, clack of glasses on counter. Damien downs one after another with a small, satisfied sigh after. He slides the glasses back a couple of inches towards the bartender.]

Damien: On my tab.

Bartender: You got it.

 

[SFX: Damien pushes his way through the crowd. He finds a spot in the corner to settle in and watch the band. 

 _so here’s where we find ourselves  
__we’ve got an ocean between us  
__and you wouldn’t have it any other way_  

 _i’ve burned anything you’ve ever given me  
__but why am i still sifting through the ashes_  

 _i don’t want you back, i won’t want you back_  
_i’m glad i left, i’m glad i left, i’m glad i left  
_ _i’m so fucking glad you left]_

 

[SFX: A door opens from behind Damien.]

Mark: Excuse me.

Damien: Yea—wha…

[SFX: Mark maneuvers around the crowd, finding a spot about 10-15 feet away to steady himself and start taking pictures. The shutter clicks of his camera are subtle, but can still be heard above the crowds and music.]

Damien: (under breath) Mark? What are you… How? Why?

[SFX: Mark takes a few more pictures before venturing further into the crowd. His voice and his camera fade into the distance.]

Damien: Mark… Fuck… Fuck!

[SFX: Damien shoves his way out of the crowd and out of the bar, enough to cause a bit of a commotion and complaints. The doors slam open and his footsteps fade as he gets farther and farther away from the bar.]

Mark: What was that all about?

[SFX: shutter click]


	2. Alone Again After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Later that night, after the bar.

**Part B: Alone Again After**

[SFX: Keys jangling in a lock, door opening and slamming. Fast footsteps. Another door slamming open.] 

Damien: Fuck. Fuck. Damn it, fuck. 

[SFX: Rustling, drawers opening and closing.]

Damien: (muttering) Where the fuck is it… 

[SFX: Miscellaneous junk rattling, he finds what he’s looking for.]

Damien: There you are. 

[SFX: He rests his hands on the ends of the dresser and takes a deep breath. More rummaging in the drawer. He pulls out the old tape recorder and removes the cassette inside. He places it in a tape case before unwrapping the plastic on a new tape, opening the case, and sliding it into the recorder.]

[SFX: Click of a recorder, quiet reels spinning.]

Damien: I don’t know where to start. It’s been three months and suddenly, here you are… In the same town, the same bar, on the same night… 

Damien: You know, you asked  _ me _ to leave. Last time we spoke, you were too worried about your precious sister and your precious girlfriend and the whole rest of your little squad, enough to hand me a new life in a neat little bow and walk out. (mutters) A life I didn’t ask for.

[SFX: he takes a seat on the edge of his bed. The frame and springs creak under his weight. He sighs.]

Damien: You wanted me gone, so I left. After I begged you, after I said I would do anything for you, you made me leave. And you didn’t even have to use my powers against me, no, I left for you. Because you asked me to. And god, did I feel like such a fucking idiot. I could pretend that I was being the better man, the bigger man, for following along with your little plan to ostracize and exile me from my own home instead of sticking around but… you “couldn’t promise what might happen” if I stayed. (chuckles) That Caleb sure does pack a punch, I’ll give him that. Of course, there are worse people named Wadsworth I’d rather not run into again. Hm.

Damien: I almost went to go see you. Did you know? After Sam called. I’m sure she told you. She sounded pretty worried about whatever the fuck you two were fighting on about, so next thing I knew, I was at a gas station diner in the middle of nowhere, ordering pancakes for dinner, when I ran into your mind reader friend with the vet for a friend. It was… pleasant. Civil. Nice, even. (laughs) She got grossed out over the waitress hooking up with someone in the back, so that was pretty funny. She’s better now, you probably know this. I apologized for the… head injury. That, I do feel a little bad about. I think I can be the first to vouch for getting hurt affecting someone’s abilities. Or maybe second. I did hurt her first. Anyway, I finished my pancakes and I was so close to sliding out of that booth and getting back in the car and… Instead, I sat there and finished my pancakes. They were alright. 

Damien: Anyways, I think I saw you tonight. Which is the most fucking infuriating thing because it’s been months since I’ve left and you still manage to make your way into my life. The fact that I had tried to go see you but chickened out and now, out of nowhere, we’re within 20 feet of each other again, the universe has a pretty shitty sense of humor. Is it because you’re in my town now that it’s okay for us to even be in the same vicinity? Since we’re not home, we can “hang out” again, even find a motel room and relive old times… You’d hate it, I’m sure.

Damien: I’ve had a lot of time to think these last few months… the choices I made, the things I said. Things I’d say and do to you if I ever saw your face again. Had half a mind to punch you in that stupid face of yours and fucking… smash your camera into pieces… (trails off) But now, I “have to be careful” so I don’t “get thrown out of places” and “get arrested.” Such fucking bullshit. But what’s even more bullshit is that I don’t think you even noticed me. You probably couldn’t pick my ability up, which is all the more encouraging. You were so focused, shooting the band. You probably took a couple of shots of the crowd too. Didn’t know whether to hide or not. Maybe you’ll see me, a little blip or blur on the edge there. 

Damien: Your face, I’d never seen it like that. Focused, but not like how focused you were on our… roadtrip. Not having to worry about Atypicals or the AM, but on your camera. Lighting and composition or whatever… You probably thought I wasn’t listening on those drives back into town. Say things enough times, it gets drilled and stuck in people’s heads, the “normal” way anyway. But you were so determined up there, so sure of yourself. I… I didn’t know how to feel. I didn’t know if I should’ve called out to you, if you even wanted to see me again. Probably not. I froze up for a second, just watching you. You made me freeze up. 

Damien: I could honestly care less about emo punk or whatever the hell was going on up on stage. Of all the places that I’d be tonight, I had no idea I’d get roped into going into some indie dipshit sideshow. And running into my coworkers there… Oh yeah, I don’t know if you know, but I have a job now. A really shitty one. Data entry in an accounting department at a subpar mediocre bank. Such an outdated job but hey, I get a paycheck and there’s a bar right next door. Two things I can’t complain about over everything else. 

Damien: Remember when I drunk called you that one time? I feel like I should’ve gotten you drunk. Not like that, I know that sounds bad, but you were on the mend and shit, but you looked like you could’ve used it. I’m sure you share Dr. B’s passion for scotch. It would’ve been really easy to get us some, at least earlier on the trip. After all that time, everything I put you through, you never asked for a drink. Why? I know you needed to keep your guard up with me, make sure my—your ability wouldn’t get any more messed up. Still would’ve loved to have seen drunk Mark compared to sober Mark though. Bet he’s a lot more fun to talk to. I would’ve wanted that.

[SFX: cheap plastic squeaking slightly. He’s squeezing the recorder in his hand.]

Damien: I miss that power. I miss getting what I want. I miss being better than everyone else. I miss when there was an “everyone else” when it was me against them… And it could’ve been us against them, but time and time again, you wanted to be like them. Them. You know, I just need one more, one more time where I can tell someone what I want and I get it. I miss that feeling so much. I’m not myself without it. People say this kind of thing turns into a “new normal” but that’s such fucking bullshit, I refuse to accept it. 

Damien: Every morning, I look out the window and stare at the gardeners outside my apartment window and I’m fucking screaming at them to take off their hat or drop their shears or just do  _ something.  _ I can’t even get them to do as something as simple as that. I used to get what I want and now, now I’m a laughingstock. A fucking joke that no one takes seriously because “in society” and “on paper,” I’m a nobody with no skills or reputation to the name. I’ve gone soft, Mark, and it’s all because of you. In all this time, I’ve gotten soft and now I’m lumped together in with the rest of the “people” who survive their day-to-day with the same braindead nine-to-five shithole job with annoying ass coworkers who smack their lips when they eat or gossip too much about me, the mysterious brooding guy who doesn’t talk to anyone. You should see the office politics. It was kind of impressive, the bar next door learned my name and my usual drink on the second day. I opened a tab even. 

Damien: I never expected my life to change this much in half a year. It was never supposed to have been like this. I want my life back, my powers back, and I want you— I... I wanted you to— for me— us— I wanted us— God, fuck!! 

Damien: (shaky breaths, tearing up, sniffling, small gasps for air but not quite sobbing)

Damien: I fucking cared for you, Mark. Not in the nurse-you-back-to-health care for you, even though I did do that—you’re welcome, by the way, in all of your griping about me, I don’t think you were ever very appreciative of that—but I cared for you so  _ fucking _ much. I miss talking to you, not even about your time at The AM, just the sound of your voice. I miss seeing you and I think tonight was… a blessing because I missed even being in the same vicinity as you, but you—you don’t… You never wanted to stay because I could never have made you— not in that way, not anymore. 

[SFX: he falls back onto his bed. Long silence, the reels of the recorder can be heard hissing again.]

Damien: I guess, at the very least, at the end of all of this… I’m glad you’re doing okay. 

Damien: Aaaand, you’re never going to hear this over my dead body, so I should probably just stop this and pull the tape. 

[SFX: recorder stops. He opens it and pulls out the cassette.]

**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Damien. Always and forever a mess that I can't help but love and hate all at the same time. 
> 
> Thanks for getting to this point and taking the time to read through it all! If you can, support the podcast on Patreon! This isn't a paid promotion or anything, I'm just want to support this great show as much as I can.


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